cherries
by shugotenshii
Summary: Prompt given by Squall from one of my Tumblr rp blogs for 8/7 day. Please insert a lazy summary here.


**AN: This was written for 87 day at the persuasion of my Squall on Tumblr. In other news, I have also moved to Tumblr. Tumblr-rping is so addicting, omg, you have no idea. Yeah, so, whatever. Figured I might as well blow some dust off this account. No idea whether to shove it under Dissidia, or Kingdom Hearts. Please prepare yourself for the occasional typo and repeated word because gaia knows I can't write properly anymore.  
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><p>"Want any?" The question lingered in the air as stormy-grey eyes slid over to the owner of the voice, vision almost obscured by yellow and sky blue and the most impossible shade of red to ever exist on the planet.<p>

A barely audible sigh passed through Squall's lips as he returned his attention to the task at hand: rifling through Strife's kitchen cabinets for food. Sadly, the search didn't turn up anything worthwhile and he closed the cabinet door above his head with an audible click, turning around on the spot and leaning his hips back against the counter.

"…How do you survive?"

The blond in question paused, hand halfway down a clear jar of maraschino cherries. He considered what the other said for a moment before rolling his shoulders in a light shrug and lifting a preserved fruit up by the tip of its stem.

"I said you could spend the night," he murmured, the cherry disappearing behind a click of white teeth. Squall's eyes flicked back to the empty cabinet before him. "I never said I'd treat you to a three-course meal."

"That much is obvious," the brunet retorted, gesturing at the very nearly empty kitchen. It didn't help that Cloud didn't even know how to cook without causing some sort of disaster in the kitchen that required the aid of a fire extinguisher.

Cloud only hummed from his perch on the kitchen table, methodically working his way through the rest of the jar. Squall folded his arms over his chest, silently going over his options. He could order take out, but that would mean turning over Cloud's entire apartment for the blond's cellphone. Whenever it sensed that someone needed it, it always conveniently disappeared, like it was plagued by bad luck. He could always go out and get food, but that would require leaving the so far tolerable temperature of the building and walking out into heat that turned the very air into thick syrup.

"Why don't you just go, since apparently all you want is food?"

"I didn't realise I wasn't allowed to be hungry, Strife."

"Then stop hovering and go."

Squall shifted his eyes back to Cloud's, a storm meeting the sky. The blond held his gaze, challenging the squabble that he was sure would follow. It never failed to creep up on either of them, tugging out harsh words, bitter emotions—

And for what?

—For some reason it was the only way they knew to coexist.

Cloud always started it.

Squall always ended.

The weather was too hot for Cloud to bother. He dropped his eyes to the jar that sat in his lap and pulled out the last remaining cherry, examining it briefly for no reason in particular before settling the fruit on his tongue, closing his teeth around it and tugging the stem free. "Look, if you're hungry, we can just—…"

The rest of the words tumbled to the back of his throat when he felt calloused fingertips graze his jawline, skimming up along the bone, under his ear and into his blond spikes. Squall had moved in like a shadow, easily towering over the other and settling himself in between the other's knees, hips pressed against the edge of the table.

Whatever he was doing, Cloud had no idea. He was used to the brunet substituting his words for actions, unable to express himself well otherwise, but this was completely new, entirely different. Steel against clear ocean blue, the blond could only watch as dark lashes dropped lower, grew blurrier, until something warm was pressing firmly against his lips, the fingers curled around the back of his head guiding him nearer. His heart fumbled, brain trying to process what was going on and whether or not he was caught up in some strange perverted dream—

Squall nipped at his lower lip and Cloud's shoulders went rigid, mouth falling open to release a gasp, and then it wasn't just warm anymore, it was _hot_, hot as the thick, syrupy air that blanketed the city outside.

In his shocked state, it wasn't difficult to coerce Cloud to kiss back, lips moving in a clumsy synchrony and the jar in his hands clinking slightly when Squall pressed closer and hit his belt buckle against it. The sound ignited something both of them and they were suddenly grabbing and pulling and pushing, trying to drive the kiss deeper with hot tongues and the click of teeth and lingering taste of sweet cherries between both of them. Squall's hands were in Cloud's hair and Cloud's hands were fisted in Squall's shirt and the blond tasted _amazing_ and _sweet_ that when Squall finally pulled away, they were both flushed and panting softly for stolen breath.

Blond spikes brushed against Squall's throat as Cloud dropped his forehead against the brunet's collarbone, blue hues fluttering shut from the rush of undescribable emotions.

"What was that…?"

"…You're the one who asked if I wanted any."


End file.
